I Will Become Yours and You Will Become Mine
by Paceismyhero
Summary: "While this book wasn't entirely filled with only good memories, there was a theme within the pages that was hard to miss: Peeta." Oneshot inspired by Sara Bareilles' "I Choose You" set post-Mockingjay but pre-epilogue. Katniss' POV. Please read and review!


**Author's Note:** Trying this fandom again, hoping to pry some feedback out of the readers with the _first_ idea I had for Everlark. This is based on Sara Bareilles' song "I Choose You" and is set post-Mockingjay but pre-epilogue, in Katniss' POV. I own nothing, so please don't sue. Enjoy!

* * *

Katniss sat with her back resting against the hard bark of a tall tree, at least 30 feet up with her legs crossed casually across a sturdy branch. Normally she came out to the woods - _her _woods - to hunt, but when she'd gone to leave this morning, her hands went for her notebook instead of her bow. It wasn't necessarily uncommon; she'd taken to writing a few years ago when she'd been responsible for creating the entries for the plant book and then later the tribute book. Now, the frequency of such hobby was almost even with the amount of time she spent shooting arrows. The difference today, however, was that she hadn't had any desire to write. There wasn't any specific event to document, or a nightmare that needed put on paper just to get it out of her head. Instead, she'd spent the last few hours sitting high off the ground going through all her old notes and memories and trying to draw a parallel between them and the thoughts that had plagued her every morning for the past month.

Her eyes drifted back to the yellowing paper, her handwriting harsh and sporadic across the first twenty or so sheets. This was technically her second book, the first filled mostly with memories of her family or the Games; those were important, things she actually did look back on from time to time, even if Peeta assumed she did it solely to torture herself. He was wrong, though. While she still didn't like to be reminded of all the blood on her hands, she'd come to accept her role in the rebellion. Perhaps she wouldn't have signed up to be the Mockingjay, nor would she ever truly take sole credit for ending 75 years of oppression, she did know her involvement was essential to its success - and she did consider it a success despite all that was endured and lost; it took her a long time, but she'd realized that even if Prim hadn't died because of that parachute, she would have most certainly died in the Games. The outcome would have been the same, except in that scenario the nation would still be gripped in the stronghold of a corrupt government.

This way, at least it stood for something.

A rumble from above forced her gaze upward, and she scanned the sky wearily. It was like looking into a mirror, the crystal gray of the clouds matching the hue of her eyes almost perfectly. Except, whereas the sky was threatening to break, preparing for a storm, Katniss felt further from such a reaction than maybe ever before. Her words from the past few years echoed in her mind, rattling along with the faint whispers she'd been unable to decipher throughout the month and slowly coursing through her bloodstream like new life. While this book wasn't entirely filled with only good memories, there was a theme within the pages that was hard to miss: Peeta.

She still wasn't good with words, and even written down they were kind of jumbled and hard to discern. But she'd started writing because she'd wanted to tell her story; she wanted to have a place where she could write everything she'd never say - if only because sometimes she felt words weren't necessary. And, looking back, she'd seen her story was really _their_ story. He was so much a part of her that it was almost impossible to separate the two ideas, and the morbid part of her kept writing so he'd know exactly how she felt about him even if she weren't able to tell him, for whatever reason.

Another thunderous boom sounded, the sun fading out completely behind heavy clouds. Katniss scrambled to put her book in the safety of the leather bag she'd brought with her and hurried down the tree, but the threat of the dark sky barely registered. Instead, she focused on the light feeling that had taken residence in her soul, a hint of a smile spreading across her face as she made her way to her first stop.

_Let the bough break, let it come down crashing_

_Let the sun fade out to a dark sky_

_I can't say I'd even notice it was absent_

'_Cause I could live by the light in your eyes_

_*s*_

_I'll unfold before you_

_Would have strung together_

_The very first words_

_Of a lifelong love letter_

When she was younger, she'd sworn she'd never get married. She'd seen what had happened to her mother, and she didn't want that life. Even before the debilitating grief, the strong dependency between her parents unsettled Katniss. She didn't like how love took people over, made them act differently or feel differently. Now she'd grown enough and been through enough to understand emotions that strong couldn't be stopped. They weren't a choice, and by trying to deny them she'd only allowed another emotion to take hold of her: anger. She'd been so bitter and unapproachable before, and it should have been enough to keep Peeta away.

And she still got scared sometimes, worried the circumstances would change when there were so many uncontrollable variables. Things were lifetimes better in Twelve, and Panem in general, now, but it was still part of a process. Recovery was ongoing in every district, for every single person. For her, it was almost identical to the flat ground of their burned hometown. When she'd returned, she'd started with nothing; she was a shell of the person she'd been before, left with nothing and no one to remind her why she should bother trying to rediscover that person, that life. Even Peeta had his own problems to deal with, his own demons to wrestle even though they immediately took on the task of trying to help the other. That was what they did, protected each other. With only parts of themselves left in tact, they each managed to pick up the broken pieces and make something whole again.

Two whole beings that, to her, were more like one.

They were a unit now, a family. And after she'd reciprocated Peeta's love verbally, he'd never asked for anything else - he never had. Even when she did get overcome with the melancholy of a world without her sister (or Cinna or Finnick or …) and shut down for days at a time, he was always waiting for her when she came back - usually with a smile and some bread. It was as factual as the sun rising in the east, and that kind of reliance had been missing from her life before him. He was her rock, steady enough even with a bum leg and pieces of his mind loose that she knew 110% she could count on him no matter the situation. And unlike what she'd thought before, she didn't mind depending on him. It didn't make her weak, but rather stronger than she'd ever felt before. They were always most powerful when they were together.

_Tell the world that we finally got it all right_

_I choose you_

_I will become yours and you will become mine_

_I choose you_

_I choose you_

_(Yeah)_

"Katniss, what a wonderful surprise!" Delly greeted in her typical manner, overly excited and with a combination of shiny blonde hair and perfectly white teeth that were blinding even in the dull lighting of the Justice Building. "Sounds like a terrible storm is headed our way."

She nodded in agreement, her eyes shifting toward the left and catching sight of the reason for her visit. "Which is why I'm kind of in a hurry." She cleared her throat, pointing delicately toward the papers hanging in trays by the window they were speaking through. "I, um, just need a license and certificate, please."

Delly's expression was like a preview to what Katniss imagined Peeta's would look like, but for all her exuberance and general giddiness, she handed the papers over wordlessly and managed just one strangled squeal before wishing them luck. Honestly, it was much better than she'd expected when the idea first formed, and was probably the lesser of the two evils. After all, had it been anyone else working today, they would have likely asked a million questions, mostly surrounded around the idea that everyone already thought her and Peeta were married. It was something that still lingered from their Games and then just from never being apart since he first came back to Twelve, but it was yet another reason why it felt necessary to put the plan into action.

Peeta had never pressured her to marry him. He knew how she'd felt about the whole institution, and he really _was_ happy with their life once he knew it was real. It turned out, though, that it wasn't enough for _her_; she was done living under assumptions - people had assumed her and Gale were together, once upon a time. And she might not say everything that popped into her mind or even half of it, but she couldn't let this just be one of those things that went unspoken but understood between them. She needed him to understand that she wasn't with him _because_. It didn't just happen; she'd chose him, long before she even knew that was what she was doing. It had been why she'd sprung from her spot in the Games' forest in search for him, why she'd proclaimed with such determination that she wasn't going to leave him. She couldn't even fathom it, even then (even with her mind screaming at her that she sounded just like her mother and wondering how she could be so stupid), and it had taken her so long to figure out why.

But she knew now, and she wasn't going to let the opportunity slip by. Not again. She'd lost him once, taken him for granted before. She'd lived in regret her entire time in Thirteen and every single day until they'd repaired one another, grew back together. Through all his concocted hate and her overwhelming pain, they'd found one another again and everything had changed. He wasn't just there and he wasn't just something she clung to for fear of losing yet another thing that mattered. He was her dandelion, the reason she was able to feel hope again. He made her feel like things could still manage to be good after being bad for so long, whether he did it with a pitiful joke or a lustful expression or a tantalizing touch or a warm loaf of bread. And she was going to spend the rest of her life (which was presumably a long time even if she still felt so much older than she really was) making sure he understood her decision was hers - not his and most certainly not the Capitol's.

_There was a time when I would have believed them_

_If they told me you could not come true_

_Just love's illusion_

_But then you found me and everything changed_

_And I believe in something again_

_*s*_

_My whole heart_

_Will be yours forever_

_This is a beautiful start_

_To a lifelong love letter_

Slipping out of the back of the bakery completely undetected, Katniss twirled the loaf of bread in her hand almost mockingly. After they got over the magnitude of her proposition and basked in the shift in their relationship, she'd definitely have to tease him about the security of the business. Hell, knowing it was so easy, she wished her younger self would have figured it out - though she couldn't imagine actually stealing anything, even in her worst hour, and especially not from someone as kind-hearted and noble as Mr. Mellark. Haymitch, however, was a different story. She'd pushed her way into his house and stuffed a bottle of some of the liquor he kept hidden for special occasions into her bag all before even greeting him. And by greeting him she meant that she'd kicked his chair to wake him before stepping far enough back that he didn't cut her with the exposed blade clenched in his hand.

"Sign this."

He blinked at her and then down at the paper, then back at her again. "What?"

"Here," she shoved a pen at him, then a muffin she'd also swiped from the bakery in the event that bribery would be necessary. "Sign on the line."

Haymitch worked some of the phlegm out of his throat and sat up a little straighter, grasping the license between both hands and holding it out an arm's length away. She wasn't sure if it was his age or the alcohol that was impairing his vision, but she let a smile slip once he placed the paper back down and picked up the pen. His signature was completely illegible and she could have just as easily forged it - and technically he _was_ supposed to bear witness to the ceremony - but she was glad she came. His opinion mattered to her, because, like it or not, Haymitch was like a father to both Peeta and her now. And she figured the hint of a smile she'd seen on his face before he put his head back down was his way of realizing such, too.

"Hey, sweetheart," he called out just before she left, not waiting for her to make her way back to the kitchen before bellowing out, "How many lifetimes have I been asleep?"

_Tell the world that we finally got it all right_

_I choose you_

_I will become yours and you will become mine_

_I choose you_

_I choose you_

His heavy gait gave him away even before he entered the house, enough that she had time to look back and check the tray she'd up by the fireplace as well as the skirt of her dress before looking back toward the foyer. The click of the door opening was followed by the sound of him taking off his likely muddy shoes - it had started raining minutes after Katniss had gotten home; she'd actually danced a little to the quiet lullaby of the rain hitting the roof as she prepared the bread and alcohol and then upstairs when she'd changed into the best dress she could find in her closet. Peeta had taken an umbrella with him this morning before he left, but she still knew one of the first things he'd do once he turned the corner and realized what was going on was look down disapprovingly at his attire.

"Katniss? Sae said she saw you coming out of the bakery earlier. Why didn't you …"

He trailed off the instant he entered the living room, almost falling over himself he stopped so abruptly. The whole thing, the way the shock was evident in every aspect from his stance to the way his mouth remained sagged open to the inhuman width of his eyes, was so hilarious that she almost regretted not doing this sooner. She'd known he'd be surprised, known this was completely unexpected - even in his wildest dreams - but the fact that she could make the great, charming Peeta Mellark speechless was the cherry on top of what she knew would be a deliciously iced cake.

"Peeta," she warned lightly when his silence continued, trying to hide at least some of the amusement from her tone. While she was getting some sort of satisfaction out of his current state - never once did she consider his stunned response might be a bad thing. Her decision might seem sudden, but she knew he loved her; he always had and he did it so well that she couldn't even fathom doubting such now - she also didn't want to waste a lot of time with him inside his own head. She'd learned over the years that he could often be his own worst enemy, the voices of his mother and his hijacked-self sometimes too loud for him to ignore. "Breathe."

"I-I'm … sorry. I … just … uh, um," he stuttered out, earning a wider grin from her.

Up until that point, his gaze had only broke once to take note of the papers she had laid out on the coffee table in front of her. The next, however, was just a millisecond after most of the muscles in his body had relaxed, just before they'd tensed again after he'd looked down at his wrinkled pants and stained shirt. She snorted out a soft laugh, shaking her head a little as she crossed the space between the two of them. The motion caused his gaze to move back to her, his eyes reminiscent of the weather outside - wet but clearing away to the brightest blue ever seen. She really did regret not doing this sooner.

"I don't want you to think this is something that I haven't thought about. Because I know it seems spur of the moment, but … it's not."

She again considered showing him her book, letting him see with his own eyes all the reasons she had for finally making this decision. And maybe she still would, someday. She'd show him the page that was dedicated to the memory of him saving her life with a single loaf of bread; she'd show him the note she'd written in the margin one morning after the sunlight had brought to her attention just how beautiful his face was, from the insane length of his golden eyelashes to the bend of his strong jaw; she'd show him the list she'd made of things he'd taught her and the things she still wanted to learn, and wanted to teach him. She'd show it all to him, because after today he wouldn't just be a part of her, but he'd officially be the better half.

"And yet, I'm still not exactly sure what to say." She fidgeted a little, nervous for the first time all day, mostly because this was the most she'd spoken since they'd parted ways early this morning. "It's not going to be perfect and I know there's going to be mistakes made, but … I love you. That's real, and … and I'll prove it for as long as you let me."

_We are not perfect_

_We'll learn from our mistakes_

_And as long as it takes_

_I will prove my love to you_

_*s*_

_I am not scared of the elements_

_I am under-prepared, but I am willing_

_And even better_

_I get to be the other half of you_

"So," she began, trying to sound casual even though she could officially feel her heart hammering in her chest as she walked back toward the tray. She picked it up and moved it to the coffee table, as if offering it and not _herself_. "Will you marry me?"

He rushed to her so quickly that she would have sworn he flew; his leg hadn't impeded his speed at all despite the many obstacles between his body and hers. And, the second his hands cupped her face and his lips crashed into hers, she, too, felt like she was flying. His kiss was powerful and passionate. It was exactly the way it always was, because he'd learned to express himself to her with actions more than words and he'd never held anything back. Now she wouldn't either.

They pulled back slowly, their lips parting but their foreheads leaning against one another's for support. She felt her cheeks wrinkle against his hold as her smile widened beyond their grip; her attempt to censor it even after he'd moved his hands to her waist was a losing battle considering the happiness she felt coursing through her. Still, if she was going to appear so obviously girly, she couldn't _sound_ as such, too. "Does that mean you'll allow it?"

The air around them vibrated with his low chuckle, and she knew his answer even before reached for the torn pieces of bread and whispered, "I'll allow it."

_Tell the world that we finally got it all right_

_I choose you_

_I will become yours and you will become mine_

_I choose you_

_I choose you_

_I choose you _


End file.
